About Myrtle:Before you stands an impressive, but decrepit, neohome. After journeying through some lesser known parts of the Haunted Woods, you’ve finally arrived at your destination. This job will be fantastic, you thought; you’ll see parts of Neopia you’ve only dreamed of, you thought. Three hours lost in a forest with mysterious whispering trees that you could swear were murmuring false directions has you reconsidering your position at the Petpet Protection League. You grab the large door knocker and hope the worst is behind you. Surely an interview with a kacheek and it’s petpet can’t be too difficult, right?

BONG, BONG, BONG.

Minutes pass in what feel like hours. You sense a shiver on the back of your neck and turn around in fear, but nothing’s there. More time passes and you aren’t sure how long you’ve been waiting on the porch of this house. Why did you come here? Did you have a job to do? Your brain feels foggy as the wooden door slowly opens.

Creeaak.

You peer into the darkness. At first, there doesn’t appear to be anything in the landing. You squint, trying to get a better look, and call out a greeting. You consider for a second just walking away from this bizarre experience but something compels you to enter. A cold wave washes over you as you enter the landing and look around. The portraits on the walls stare at you with haunted, dead eyes. The tables and cabinets along the hall are coated with dust and grime.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

A shriek rips through the silence as an overwhelming sense of dread fills you. This is probably the wrong address; you haven’t seen a single soul anywhere on the property. You spin around intending to sprint far, far away from this place and you almost step on… the cutest thing you’ve ever seen? A tiny, pudgy feloreena looks up at you and blinks slowly. You reconsider.

This little petpet is so cute. Absolutely hideous, but completely adorable. You begin to recall that, yes, you were here to congratulate and interview winners of the PPL award. The squishy mutant in front of you must be Myrtle. She clumsily moves away from the doorway and through your legs, into the landing. She hops forward, her tiny wings fluttering frantically while she utters a couple of hushed groans.

Unngh. Mumgh.

Myrtle floats rather ungracefully up the stairs. It isn’t hard to keep up with her pace, and you follow her ascent. As you proceed further into the house, a state of calm comes over you. You have a perpetual chill, though Myrtle doesn’t appear to be cold at all. You begin to wonder where she is taking you when she enters a large library. Unlike the rest of the house, the library is immaculate. The vast room is filled with shelves of books and there are piles of tomes strewn on tables.

As you begin to question about the whereabouts of Griwold, her owner, Myrtle manages to make it onto a table with an open book. You can tell she is gesturing to something, so you approach to take a closer look. She is pointing to the word ‘he’, then moves to the word ‘is’, then ‘unfortunately’, ‘occupied’. You understand that this is how she will be communicating with you. It’s completely absurd yet totally genius. You pull out your notebook and begin the interview.

A couple of hours pass and you are completely charmed by this tubby cutie. She regales you with the story of how she met Griwold and how she developed this way of communicating. Throughout the interview, the chill never leaves you. Just as you are finishing up, Myrtle’s eyes widen and she motions in the book – ‘please’ ‘leave’ ‘now’. She quickly flutters to the edge of the table and begins to push you.

Eheheehehehehee!

You hear a disturbing cackle from nearby and look to Myrtle. She gives you a surprisingly hard shove for a small petpet but floats away from you, and deeper into the library. You remember what she told you and head for the exit. As you leave the library and walk down the hall, the cold feeling subsides. You quicken your pace as you continue to hear laughter and terror beings to creep in. Once you get outside of the house you think it might have been better that you didn’t get to meet Myrtle’s owner after all.

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